


BONELESS

by Frogmen



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Dark Comedy, Gen, free-style medical malpractice, robo-swears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 09:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16238738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frogmen/pseuds/Frogmen
Summary: Nickel wants an apology.Tesarus wants to use his arms.





	BONELESS

Tesarus managed to sit up with a bit of effort after scooching himself to the nearest wall.  Standing up was proving less doable. He managed to lever himself into an awkwardly angled squat before one of his arms flopped unexpectedly and the shifting weight put him back on his rear.  

He huffed, put admirable effort into projecting what he thought was an expression of regret through his thoroughly immobile optical array, and muttered, “fine.  Sorry.”

Nickel flicked the screen of her datapad and took a sip of her drink before looking over at him.  She pulled herself closer to the edge of the table and replied, “sorry for what?”

Tesarus shook his head and said, “dunno, whatever you’re mad about.”

Pulling one of the metacarpal supports from the pile of arm bones next to her, Nickel tossed it in the air in mock thoughtfulness.  “No, I want a real apology.”

“‘M  _ real _ sorry.”

She rolled her eyes and flicked the endoskeleton segment back into the pile.  “No, idiot, you get them back when you figure out what you did wrong.” Nickel huffed and turned back to her medical journal.

“I’ll tell Tarn.”

“Do it, glitch.”

 

Tarn folded his arms and stared down at the situation.  Tesarus had managed to roll on his front and couldn’t figure out how to roll back, given the broad and flat build of his torso.  Every few seconds he would mumble a question of an apology for everything from his cleaning routine to accidentally stepping on Nickel.  Nickel was reading on the breakfast table, a pile of loose skeletal components next to her. 

The Pet was bouncing on its hind legs to try and reach a bone hanging off the edge of the table.

Tarn shooed the turbofox away before addressing Nickel, “why did you remove Tesarus’s endoskeleton?”

Nickel didn’t look up from her tablet this time, rolling her eyes she said, “because he did something he shouldn’t have and I want an apology.”  She took another drink from her now stone-cold energon. “Besides, I only took the support struts from his arms, not his whole skeleton.”

“Sorry I got corpse juice in the medbay?”

Tarn levered Tesarus into a chair, grunting back, “ _ Nickel _ .  What did he do that made it reasonable to debone your own teammate?”

“If I told, he would just say he was sorry for it to get his arms back.”

Tarn dragged a hand down his mask and pled, “Nickel,  _ please _ , our next target is five hours away.  Just replace his bones and you can sort this out afterwards.”

Nickel shrugged, “he better figure it out soon, then.  Unless he wants to miss out on your playdate.”

Tesarus made a noise of distress between his randomized apologies.  “Sorry for pretendin’ I didn’t see the Pet yartzed so I wouldn’t have to clean it?”

“ _ Nickel. _ ”

“ _ Tarn. _ ”  Nickel crossed her arms, “it’s the principle of the thing.  Anyways, what even is the next target? A comms operator? What’s going to do, ‘breaker-breaker’ your-” 

Something red flashed in the corner of her vision and Nickel swatted at the hand, growling, “Kaon, no!  Get an actual fragging toy! Shoo!”

Kaon muttered something rude and retreated.

Tarn gave the reasonable resolution one last try, tiredly asking, “you realize regret is a quite a bit to ask from us, do you not?

“I’ll take learned aversion if I have to, Tarn.”  She wondered if she should bother reheating her drink.

Tesarus added an inquisitive, “sorry I ate all your poptarts?”

Nickel quirked an eyebrow and addressing the dis-armed sadist she asked, “are you now?”

Picking up the cue the shredder nodded, “so so sorry, total overstep of boundaries and scrap.  Won’t ever touch yer stuff again.”

Tarn’s mouth fell slack behind the mask and he blinked, “You did this over  _ poptarts _ ?  You could have just asked us to buy more!”

Nickel, already loading a dose of silica-neural sedative in an injector, replied, “then he would just do the same thing the _ next _ time he got hungover, Tarn.  Surely you understand.”

**Author's Note:**

> They're like energon poptarts, don't worry about it.  
> (Yeah Tarn's a little hypocrite.)


End file.
